


Pride

by Meatball42



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asgardians are all queer, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Coming Out, Cultural Differences, Demisexual Steve Rogers, Lonely Steve Rogers, M/M, Pride, Queer Themes, Sexual Identity, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Thor doesn't even know what sexual orientation is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 22:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: This year, Steve wouldn’t have to watch the Pride parade from inside a cold, lonely suite while other New Yorkers like him celebrated. He would be a part of it, free to speak his mind, in this strange new world, in a way he’d never dared before.





	Pride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MK_Yujji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MK_Yujji/gifts).



> Too many good prompts! I couldn't resist writing about Steve's experiences with Pride, though, even though it's been covered before by more talented authors than I. I also wanted to lowkey throw in Steve being comfortable with tech. I hope you like my take on it MK!

The first time Steve saw a Pride parade was less than two months after the Chitauri invasion. Major traffic areas of the city were still strewn with the rubble of skyscrapers. Only three lines of the subway system were running through Manhattan. Damages were in the billions and counting, and the loss of life was high.

Despite it all, parades went on. Steve listened to the press coverage of the multiple events taking place throughout the burroughs. Some people were disapproving, the celebration- particularly for what one commentator called ‘a radical subculture’- so soon after such a devastating attack. Most of it, though, especially from news organizations actually based in New York City, was defiant, and proud.

If he pressed his cheek against the East-facing floor-to-ceiling windows of his luxury apartment halfway up Stark Tower, Steve could see the procession, dozens of blocks downtown. It was just blurts of color at this distance, heading away from him down Eighth Avenue. He’d learned that the parade usually travelled down Fifth Avenue, but damage from the Battle was concentrated in Midtown.

Steve watched for an hour, crowds of New York City survivors celebrating being alive and free to be themselves. It was sunny outside, and hot, but inside the skyscraper Steve’s skin goosebumped from air conditioning. Inside his apartment, it was silent.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Steve didn’t come out to the team, per se. Natasha seemed to just know, somehow, a few weeks after they all moved into the tower. Steve had met a nice man on Grindr who liked to come over and talk about art, and as soon as Natasha had seen them together, she’d smirked and introduced herself with a coy smile, winking at Steve the second she was out of his date’s line of sight.

Natasha knowing apparently meant that Clint knew, too. The archer had been rather standoffish prior to the revelation, but afterwards he would spend more time watching TV when Steve was in the common lounge. When they started talking, he casually dropped a few masculine pronouns in the conversation when the subject of old flames popped up, and they shared a quiet understanding after that.

Tony found out by accident when Jarvis told him Steve had brought a guest to the conservatory he used as an art studio, and had invited himself to meet Steve’s ‘new friend’ in the middle of Steve ‘displaying his etchings.’ Bruce found out immediately afterwards because Tony walked into his lab in a daze and nearly set something on fire.

At that point, Steve threw in the towel and invited everyone to a team dinner at his apartment, where he explained that he was bisexual and demisexual, which meant that he liked men and women, but only became sexually attracted to people once he’d gotten to know them. He had to explain it multiple times to Thor, who, as it turned out, was confused because on Asgard sexual identity didn’t come as a label.

“Whosoever one chooses to lay with does not affect one’s standing,” he explained, brow furrowing in confusion. “You people find it important, to declare whom you will or will not share your bed with?”

“Some people don’t like it when men hook up with men or women hook up with women,” Clint drawled, studying Thor in amusement as the demigod’s mind was blown.

“Or if people don’t feel like the sex they were born as,” Steve interected.

“In this part of the world, those views are primarily based in the belief, often tied to religion, that sex should be used only for procreation, and that people’s self-image ought to match their bodies,” was Bruce’s contribution.

Thor shook his head slowly, hair swinging about his face. “Surely any man or woman can procreate with any other person, so long as the proper spells have been put in place,” he argued.

“Yeah we don’t- have that here, big guy,” Tony answered. “Midgardian technology is still a few years away from that."

Thor huffed. “Well, what do your people think of those who can change their gender at will? That is how my brother was able to procreate with males of several species.”

“NOPE,” Clint called over his shoulder as he left the room.

“I don’t understand,” Thor said.

Steve pulled his tablet out of his bag. “Let me show you how to use the internet to search for basics on a topic.”

“Now that’s one place where Midgard tech comes out on top,” Tony said proudly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go stick my head in a blender.” He followed Clint out of the room.

Thor frowned at Steve. “Is that what you meant? How some don’t respect a person if they change their gender at will?”

Natasha smiled kindly at him. “It’s less about that, and more that it’s not considered polite to talk about someone else’s sexual exploits publically. Especially if that someone else has tried to kill us all.”

Steve was opening another tab to pull up a WikiHow on conversational norms regarding sex. “I’ll show you some of the resources I found when I got confused by how this century does things.”

“I can recommend some anthropology books on the subject,” Bruce said, perking up.

“I see there is much to learn in this land.” Thor took the tablet out of Steve’s hands with interest. “I appreciate your assistance in gaining this new knowledge.”

“No problem,” Steve said, squeezing his shoulder. “Glad to be able to pass it on.”

~ ~ * ~ ~

By the time the next Pride rolled around, things had changed. Steve had come out to the press, mostly by accident, when someone asked him what he thought of modern politics and he had a few strong opinions about marriage equality legislation and ‘bathroom bills.’ In the aftermath, the Stark Industries PR rep who was assigned to Steve had to field dozens of requests for appearances and interviews, but he still didn’t feel secure enough in the twenty-first century to take on anything like the dog-and-pony show he’d experienced before shipping out to Europe.

Instead, he asked his team to go to Pride with him. As one, they agreed.

This year, Steve wouldn’t have to watch the Pride parade from inside a cold, lonely suite while other New Yorkers like him celebrated. He would be a part of it, free to speak his mind, in this strange new world, in a way he’d never dared before.

The only argument that came up was which parade they should attend. Steve wanted to go to Brooklyn’s parade, while Tony was determined that only Manhattan would do. In the end, the team chose the Manhattan parade, since the central burrough had taken the majority of the damage from the Chitauri.

Steve gave in because he knew there would always be next year. It was a good feeling.

The parade started at noon, and since they were marching in it as a group they were expected to arrive an hour early. The team planned to leave at ten, so it was 9:30 when Steve arrived at the lounge, already dressed in light fabrics to keep the early summer heat off, and found Tony perched on the edge of a couch with a panel of paints.

“So I read the links you sent out,” Tony opened with no preamble, “and I did a bit more research on my own. Turns out some people paint these flags on their face, if they want to declare with a particular orientation or gender identity.”

“Is this a tradition?” Steve asked, interested, as he came to sit beside Tony. He picked up Tony’s tablet and swiped down the open tab to browse the different flags. He paused on a demisexual flag, reading about the symbolism and the flag’s development in the sidebar.

“Somewhat. Not so organized, though. It’s just fun. I could do yours, if you want?” Tony leaned over Steve so he could scroll down on his screen. “This one’s for bisexual and demisexual.”

Steve grinned. “That’d be great. Thanks, Tony.”

“No problem.”

Tony opened up the paints and got to work, hands brisk and certain. Steve held still, trying not to squirm under the new sensation of paint being applied to his cheek.

“I do actually have a question,” Tony cleared his throat, “about the demisexuality.”

“Shoot.”

“No need for that, it’s just a simple question,” Tony joked nervously. “Okay so, you’re not attracted to someone until you know them for a while. How long, would you say, does that usually take?”

Steve focused on keeping his breathing at the same pace, even as his heart started pounding. Suddenly Tony’s hand on his chin sent prickles through his body, and he was excruciatingly aware of the few inches between them on the couch.

“It varies,” he said vaguely. “Why do you ask?”

Tony didn’t answer, concentrating on the paints, but with Steve’s eyes locked on his face, he slowly reddened. “Tony.”

“I don’t have a flag,” Tony muttered. “It’s complicated.”

Steve could feel his pulse pounding on the side of his neck. “That’s no problem for me,” he said gently.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, Tony looking painfully focused on his handiwork, and Steve let the silence build. Tony was no good with that sort of pressure, and sure enough, he broke.

“I’m not gay,” he blurted out. “Or bi. I like women. And every few years, I’ll knock boots with a guy. It’s rare.”

“Okay,” Steve said quietly.

“I don’t normally- it’s not just one-night stands. They have to be- exceptional.” He put down the brush and stared at his hands, and when he finally looked up into Steve’s eyes-

Steve took a tiny breath in, just barely a gasp. Then a smile spread over his face, growing wider and brighter, and contagious, it seemed, because Tony smiled, too.

“You’ll mess up all my hard work,” he murmured, stroking along the edges of the flag with his fingertips.

Just then, the elevator dinged, and Tony dropped his hand and turned away. Steve grabbed for his wrist before he was out of reach and intertwined their fingers.

“A year is long enough for me,” he said, smiling up at Tony. “That is, if I’m one of your exceptions.”

Tony’s mouth quirked up, and he winked, then went to greet their teammates.

The summer sun shone in clear blue skies over New York City. Today, Steve was ready to lead the Avengers out into its light.


End file.
